Eloquent Eloquence is a compilation of the ten best comments of the week. Comments in film reviews are not eligible for inclusion.

I would never do such a thing, but if I did, it would be this one:

So, what do you call the opposite of a sausage-fest? - jon29

A clam bake? - Mrs. Julien

10. I'm working on my screenplay with this comment? SLW, I appreciate your efforts to legitimize my efforts, when in reality the toughest thing I am working on right now is opening this can of vienna sausages. - Donut Plains

UPDATE: it's a tab-top can. I have since opened and freed the sausages. Mmmm...- Donut Plains

5.Oh, Benjamin, so PRETTY. I love watching "Seven Brides" and trying to find him hiding in the back of the dance scenes.

Ha! I do the same thing, he's always lurking around like a handsome arthritic moose.

Because moose lumber around and don't dance well.

I know this because I took one to the prom.

Actually, he was a coworker named Karl, but WHATEVER, lying is FUN. - Julie

4. I like to pretend that Adam Sandler died in a plane crash after Punch-Drunk Love. Poor guy died in his prime, you know? He had such promise. - spoobnooble

3. The Moviegoer's Prayer;

The Lord is my usher; I shall not speak. He maketh me to sit down on vinyl seats: he leadeth me along the sticky floors. He redeemeth my stubs: he leadeth me on the path of the right theater for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the aisle of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil plot: for film art with me; thy flashlight and thy courteous staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a popcorn tub before me in the presence of mine spouse: thou anointest my head with faux butter; my soda cup runneth over. Surely mine audience's silence and civility shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the moviehouse of the Loews forever.

The bathrooms are His and the cleanliness thereof; the stalls, and they that dwell therein. For he hath founded it upon the relief, and established it upon the floods received thereof before showtime and afterward.

Lift up your heads, O ye screens; even lift them up, ye everlasting previews; and the King of glory shall come in. Who is this King? The humble projectionist, and his glory be the flickering Light he shines.

1. "You gotta take a side! You molest a child, you beat a child, you're not on my side! If you see me coming, you better run, because I am gonna lay you the fuck down! Easy!"

-Gone Baby Gone

I have forgiven a lot of things in my life. I forgave Courtney in the sixth grade when she ostracized me from my friends, and I spent lunch in the girl's bathroom because I didn't want to be shunned in front of the whole cafeteria. I forgave Shane in college the time he got drunk and pulled a gun on me because he had PTSD from serving in Iraq and never got over it. I forgave guys that cheated on me, bosses that made my life hell, and friendships that were never repaired again.

I have no forgiveness in my heart for anyone that hurts a child. I am not a mother, I have no children; natural or adopted or foster. But I have the dubious distinction of being from Boston, and in 2000 being part of the beginning of the Catholic Church sexual abuse crisis. My uncle was the first person to bring charges against the Archdiocese of Boston for being sodomized when he was nine years old at St. Thomas Church in Peabody, Mass. His rapist was later found to have abused more children before his death. My uncle's charges snowballed into more victims coming forward, which led to more cases being opened in Boston, and Cardinal Law having to step down when it was found he transferred over 50 priests, knowing they had raped and molested children. The current pope gave him a job in the Vatican where he is today. He performed the funeral mass for Pope John Paul II.

I was saturated for years in that culture of being in protests, news conferences, meeting victims, being in support groups, and every day for a year (until it snowballed so far it reached across the country and swung around to Europe) of opening the newspaper and reading about another priest or deacon or cleric that had been arrested. I knew whole families where each child had been molested by a different priest. My swimming instructor at the town YMCA who also taught Sunday school was arrested and charged with rape of over 100 children. They found hundreds of hours of videotape of the assaults and notebooks where he detailed which kids he enjoyed the most. Two priests from my Catholic high school that were my track coaches were arrested. My confirmation teacher. My priest that did my first communion. The one from Bible camp. I did my college thesis on the scandal and found that from 1940-1960 only, more than 10,000 children were raped or molested by Catholic clergy in the United States. They now agree the number is too low.

I do not attend church. Not even for weddings or funerals. I do not plan to attend church when I get married, nor allow my children to attend. I am thirty and I don't know if I believe in God (which I am okay with.) I remember people insinuating that if we had "watched our children more carefully" it wouldn't have happened, or only "gay clergy" were doing these things. I do not believe evil is only found in religion, nor only perpetrated by men, nor do I believe every person is evil or out to hurt kids.

But I do believe we deify people. The ones that wear a badge, or hoist a trophy over their head or lead a classroom or perform a wedding. I am the most liberal person you will ever meet. I am non-violent, anti-war, pro-immigration, pro-choice, and help out as much as I can with Occupy Wall Street. But I have no place in my heart for anyone that hurts kids. I have three degrees and work in a hospital. I know it's a mental and medical condition usually brought on by various factors including previous abuse. That doesn't matter to me.

Like Ed Harris says in Gone Baby Gone when he admits to planting evidence so a child abuser goes to jail, each of us must take a side. I don't care that Joe Paterno won college games. I don't care that the priest supposedly stands in the place of God. I don't care if the grad student has a crush on her professor and wants to please him or if the policeman wears a shiny badge and carries a gun. And I know it must be devastating when you find out your friend or partner or family member is capable of something so heinous, because it reminds us how human we all are. How people can be capable of anything, and keep secrets in our hearts.

If you hurt a child and I know about it, I will bury you. With every fact, every law on the books and with every ounce of muscle I can get in my corner. It's not legal, it's not PC, it's not what a "hippie liberal" does and I don't care. I will move heaven and earth to do the right thing, and like Paulie said at the end of Goodfellas..."now I have to turn my back on you." This isn't about ignoring kickbacks or shoplifting or drug abuse. It's about a fully formed adult human looking inside themselves and saving the emotional and physical well-being of a weaker, unformed human. Each time you say nothing or don't call the police or don't step in, that child dies inside.

I'm okay with there not being a God. I've lived a good life and been a decent person and had a good time. But if there is, and I get wherever I'm going after this life...how do I look him/her/it in the face and admit that I did nothing to save a child? Because I was too scared or didn't think it was my problem or didn't want to believe that another human was capable of such monstrosity? I want to tell the Penn State protesters that. I want them to understand the MAGNITUDE of that. The magnitude of being human and caring enough to do what's right and speak up over another human's violation. And I want to know why in their rage they never turned over a newstruck for that 10 year old kid in the shower. - scorzi